A Hole In The Sun
by midnights in rio
Summary: In the middle of a war, Commander Shepard goes home. To Mindoir. An exploration of the Colonist background. Liara/femShep.
1. Chapter 1

**a/n: I've always thought that the backgrounds could've been explored more and a mission to Mindoir for Colonists would have been **_**awesome. **_**But alas, I have to be content with a few lines of dialogue and my imagination. A few things: this will be an ensemble fic because I love them all but it will be a Liara romance. And this Shepard is professional!Shep while on duty. Because surely I'm not the only person who wished Shepard would actually act like a military commander? No? Okay then. **

Shepard was bright with victory. Her uniform sat easily on her shoulders like it was made for her; she walked with purpose, her boots clicking against the cool metal of _Normandy's _floor. Her crew were straight-backed in their uniforms, they saluted sharply, and her ship had that warship smell: cool, recycled air and a hint of burnt.

She had forged a peace no one thought possible, she had ended a war that has raged longer than humanity had had spaceflight. The best part though, was that Tali is home. It was almost a family reunion for the crew of the first Normandy. They just needed Wrex to stop being so productive and-(_Kaidan)._

She threw the thought away hard. She felt good; she wanted to feel good, just for a little while. She was allowed that, right? Just for a minute.

She had killed a Reaper with Rannoch's dust stuck in the back of her throat. They could die. She had been free of fear; she missed that certainty, of the dust and the enemy and the adrenaline running like electricity under her skin.

Here it was decide, decide, decide. It was a relief when she chose right.

"Commander," Specialist Traynor saluted her, her movements sharp. In private they were friends and they played chess (Shepard always lost), but she'd always believed in the walls between on and off-duty.

"Specialist, report," They relaxed into at ease. Shepard was good like this; she'd missed the protocols, the regulations. They were restricting, but they were familiar, comforting guidelines to behaviour.

Traynor rattled off the communications the _Normandy _had received or sent. They'd passed a turian cruiser who had hailed them before warning of Reaper scouts in-system. This had been passed to Joker and the officer on deck. Admiral Hackett had sent a message to inform her that he had received her official report on the events on Rannoch and approving her request to implement Admiral Zorah as the second-in-command of the engineers and into the _Normandy's _ground detachment. And-

Traynor said the last communication like she just wanted the words out of her mouth, they blurred into each other. Shepard raised an eyebrow at her, her lips tugged up at the corners. Vega had told her she smiled less than 'Scars' did, and he was a turian. But see? She did smile. Sometimes.

She tilted her head, "Mind repeating that, Traynor?"

"Yes ma'am, sorry ma'am," Traynor mumbled quickly. She took a breath, looked like she wanted to wring her hands, "We received a communication from an Alliance colony. From Mindoir."

Shepard's muscles twisted tight, her fist clenched at her side. That name was a million things, all of them conflicting. Traynor watched her like they all do. Like she might crumple when she heard a word. She kept her face calm, echoed the name as a question, "Mindoir?"

"Yes ma'am. They've requested immediate assistance as they evacuate." She paused, "Reaper ground forces have engaged the militia and the Alliance garrison has been withdrawn. We're the only Alliance vessel in the area."

She spun away from the Specialist and stepeds up on to the podium overseeing the spinning, shining mass of sparks that is the galaxy map, "Joker," She called, engaging the intercom. She tapped the appropriate system, zooming into a planet with a familiar blue and red-tinted atmosphere, "Changing course. All ahead. Engage FTL once clear of planet bodies."

"Aye aye Commander," Joker replied, "Changing course. ETA 13 hours."

She stepped down and underneath her feet the metal floor hummed as the _Normandy's _thrusters kicked hard. She glanced at Traynor, nodded, "God job, Specialist. You keep this up and we'll have to promote you." The specialist smiled at the praise, a little shyly.

"I should go," Shepard said, her fist still clenched at her side and retreated from the CIC. She fell into her rountine. Talk to Adams and Tali about how the ship is running. Get a status report off Joker and EDI. She marvelled sometimes at how easily her improvised command structure had fallen into place. The _Normandy _had a skeleton crew; many vital positions on a warship were vacant, the crew stripped away as the Alliance stripped the ship itself back. But EDI did many of those jobs now, like those things were like breathing. She wasn't sure how she feels about EDI in that body, about her ship getting up and walking around. It made it harder to remember that she's everywhere.

She ended up in the gun battery, watching Garrus tap his talons against a holo, drawing his mandibles tight in concentration. He said her name. She leant against the wall and echoed his back at him. He glanced at her over his shoulder; and once she'd found turian expression incomprehensible. Now when she spoke to him, she found herself mimicking his body language.

He had that bone-tired look in his eyes; his mandibles were close and tight to his face. She wondered if he's been talking to Victus again.

"What do you need, Shepard?" He said.

"How's the guns?" She asked, trailing a hand along the Thanix cannons battery. The metal was cool under her fingertips.

Garrus flared his mandibles, "We could cut off Joker's beard with this thing."

She laughed, slaped his shoulder, "He might cry."

"We definitely have to do it then." He flared his mandibles again and she grinned in response.

"I would remind you both that the Thanix Cannon is an anti-ship weapon and unsuitable for such a task," Came the cool, synthetic voice of the ship AI, "A razor may be a more suitable tool."

Garrus and Shepard looked at each other, "Uh…we'll take that into consideration then."

Garrus chuckled, in that voice that rattled through her. Then he tilted his head to examine her, the set of his mandibles thoughtful, "You alright?"

"Why wouldn't I be?" she side-stepped past him, glanced at his screens as if she knew what any of that meant.

"You look…tense."

"If you haven't noticed, Vakarian, there's a war going on." She shot back.

He paused, "Does that mean 'Vakarian, drag me down to the bar so we can talk about feelings?' Because that's what I heard."

She narrowed her eyes at him, "You're the worst."

"The best," he retorted.

"We're going to Mindoir." She cut through their banter like a knife.

His mandibles twitched uncomfortably. Well he'd _asked. _"Your homeplanet."

"Yeah," She spun. For so long it has been her definition, she'd tried so hard to cut its ties on her, prove that she could be someone else than that poor girl with the murdered family. She had thought she had; she'd had a successful military career-she was the Alliance's golden girl, with the support of two war heroes and a career that hurtled ever higher. She was the first human Spectre. And yet, it crept up on her, reminded her _that was the colour mama's hair was. _Made her chest clench tight around her heart whenever she heads the rasping vocals of a batarian.

Garrus didn't know what to say. He was one of the few that usually knew what to say to her, when the uniform could no longer hide the fact that she was human. But he hadn't told her his mother was dying.

She said, "We'll be hitting the ground in twelve hours. Make sure the ground team is right to go."

"Shepard," He began. She was already out the door.

Shepard didn't sleep. She paced. She picked up datapads that said things like _sign this, sign this, this person wants this, and this person wants that and no they won't help otherwise. _She put them down, they scattered across her desk.

She stared blankly at her model ship collection. She didn't know what happened to the originals she collected when she'd worked for Cerberus; though she'd found one in the life support area (she didn't go there anymore). She'd put every one of them together with her own hands.

The smell of glue and the feel of plastic under her fingertips reminded her of her mother. She had had warm, strong hands. There had been dirt under her fingernails from the farm and she'd always worn her hair in a bun. Said it was a holdover from her Alliance days. Her mother had never really talked about her years as a soldier. Dad had always said that it made her sad and anyway, war wasn't worth talking over.

She hadn't felt close to her mother in years. She hadn't thought of her in months.

She wondered what she'd think of her. If she'd recognise her in the dress blues she only took off to put on her armour (or when Liara was peeling her out of it) and the scars that crept bright and sharp along her jaw. If she'd still see her little Cammie and take her out back to watch while she fixed fences.

"Commander?" EDI almost sounded contrite. She'd been imitating human behaviour more and more; that body aided in that-after all a ship can't act human. The first time Ash had seen her, she'd gone for her sidearm.

Shepard flopped into her chair, "Yes EDI?"

"Dr T'Soni wishes to speak with you."

Liara. Sweet Liara with her surprisingly biting new sarcasm. She'd be lying if she said Liara didn't wear her discovered world-weariness well, "Alright."

She heard the door hiss open and footsteps, the heavy tread of combat boots. Liara's hands draped over her shoulders, her fingertips digging into the tense muscle there. Shepard smiled, tilting her head back to look at her but it was a half-smile. Tomorrow she was going home.

The thought tired her.

"Do you remember the day we met?" Liara asked, leaning down to kiss her on the top of the head. Shepard had never wanted to know someone else so completely before, wanted to just _exist _so much. She hated all the time that had been stolen from them, the time that had changed the world so dramatically, while Shepard was still the same.

"Of course I do," Shepard replied dryly, bringing one gloved hand to her mouth to press a kiss there, "It's not every day you meet your bondmate and then run out of an _exploding volcano." _

"You were the one who blew it up," Liara teased and this time her kiss fell on Shepard's temple.

"Liara," Shepard replied, glancing up at the gently smiling asari, "Everything I touch pretty much explodes. Like that random container I knocked over the other day. It's like I'm in a HV vid."

"You're not allowed anywhere near my terminals," Liara murmured as she gently massaged her shoulders, working out what feels like a year's worth of stress.

"You're funny." Shepard replied but her eyes drift shut.

"Hilarious," Liara whispered against her ear, her lips brushing against the shell of her ear.

"Liara…" She breathed, tilting her head back, a shiver running from where Liara was, so warm and near, to her fingertips.

Liara spun the chair around and there was a familiar light in her eyes, the one that made Shepard's breath catch in her chest, "We have not…been together," She still glanced at the floor when she talked about sex. Shepard loved her for it, "In quite some time." Only Liara could sound so dignified when saying something like that.

Shepard chuckled and Liara's blue eyes narrowed at her, "What?"

"You," Shepard said helplessly, before grabbing the asari's hips and pulling her closer. "I've…I'm sorry for neglecting you. We've been so busy-"

"Oh, I didn't mean to-"

She cut her off by pressing a finger to her lips, "You have every right to be upset if I'm being stupid like that. C'mere. I'll make it up to you."

"Is that so," Liara drew the words out and then she had one hand on Shepard's shoulder, pinning her in place and the other cupping her jaw.

"Yep," Shepard replied when she remembered words.

"Hmmph." Liara leant down and kissed her. Her skin is a different texture to a human's, all tiny, deep blue scales, but her lips are soft and insistant, sucking on her bottom lip. Shepard wrapped her arms around her waist, sighed as Liara parted her lips, deepening the kiss.

When they pulled apart, her heart was thundering in her ears. She curled her hand around Liara's hip and pulled; a little 'oof' breaking from the asari's lips, just before she found herself on Shepard's lap. Who smirked at her.

"Hello."

Liara rolled her eyes before leaning in again. A kiss, "You." Another kiss, deeper, lingering. Her hands slid to the front of Shepard's uniform, began playing with the buttons of the pressed jacket.

"You came up here just to get me into bed, didn't you?" Shepard mock-accused, her head falling back as Liara began to press kisses against her throat, with just a hint of teeth. She bit her lip, tried to remember how to breathe.

"Of course," Liara replied, her blue eyes dancing. And then she was undoing those buttons, pushing the blue material apart. "Am I succeeding?"

"Maybe," Shepard managed before Liara's lips were warm and soft on her.


	2. Chapter 2

"We are on final approach to Mindoir, Commander."

Ceramic plates clicked together. The red streak of her proficiency ran down her arm, like blood against the Alliance blue and white of her armour. Those colours felt like home.

"Thank you, EDI." She stretched, testing that every joint worked as it was supposed to. The thick armour tugged down on her shoulders. There were hands on her buckles; Liara's voice was soft in her ears.

"That's what you were hiding from me."

Shepard put on her helmet. Around them: noise. Cortez was doing his pre-flight checks, calling to one of the flight deck Chiefs. Vega was getting the Marine detachment ready for battle, the swell of their voices, and the clink of their armour in her ears. The various shades of blue gleamed under the light.

"You don't want to go in there," She mumbled, turned to check over the asari's armour.

"I do," The asari retorted as Shepard's hands ran over the smooth, cool plates. "I want to know all of you."

"We should have this conversation later," Shepard said flatly, "In private." She turned to scoop up her Claymore and SMG. The asari huffed something like, 'stubborn, stubborn human' and stalked off to help Garrus with something. Across the weapons bench, Ashley was fiddling with her LMG, her eyes sliding to Shepard every so often.

"What?" Shepard demanded harshly, almost shoving her shotgun into place.

"Nothing, ma'am," Ash said, raising an eyebrow before folding up the Revenant and slinging it across her back, beside her sniper rifle.

Shepard's lips tightened into a thin line and she spun on her heel.

"Ready to go, Lieutenant?" She asked Cortez, folding her arms. The pilot ducked up from where he'd been examining the shuttle, a black smear across his cheek.

"She's good to go, ma'am." And then they were piling in, voices loud with the bravado she'd come to expect in her years in the military. Sometimes you just had to laugh, just to remind yourself that you were still alive and maybe that would change today or it wouldn't, but you were still breathing.

The shuttle, the blue of the Alliance in its every movement, brightened with the heat of re-entry. Below the ungainly craft, spread the green that was so very typical of an agricultural colony. Everything about it said 'this is a pleasant place'. It had been. A lot of places used to be pleasant.

Shepard breathed. Cortez gave her sitreps. Liara stood close, her hand close to her elbow but not touching her. Ash almost lounged against the side of the shuttle, and if she was praying, her lips didn't move.

Above them, the _Normandy _lurked. All ships had their personalities, their quirks. The _Normandy _was fierce, sly, a bird of prey waiting for just the right moment. She'd told Joker to keep out of sight. The ship was her trick, her card up her sleeve.

There was, after all, nothing more beautiful that orbitally bombing Reaper forces with a Thanix cannon.

"We've got an incoming signal from the colony, ma'am," Cortez told her. She nodded.

"Mindoir Colonial Militia to Alliance forces. Do you copy?"

"Confirmed, Militia. What's the situation, over?"

"We're using Taspan," Taspan. Home. Just a little town of a few thousand back then, living off Mindoir's static weather and the crops that flourished year round. It had grown a bit since then, "As a base to move people off-planet. We're dug in but they've got us surrounded and they're shooting down any ships that take off, over."

She glanced at Cortez, "Take us in low."

"Roger, ma'am."

"MCM, we're coming in from the west. A distraction would be appreciated, over."

"We'll see what we can do. MCM out."

"So we've got a lot of civvies in one spot. Perfect," Ash muttered.

Shepard glanced at her, bracing herself as the shuttle shuddered as it slid over turbulence, "The galaxy likes to make things challenging for us, remember?"

"You know," Ash said confidingly, "For once I'd like a nice straightforward mission. Where everything goes to plan, where our intel is correct. Just go in, shoot things, get out."

Shepard smirked, "But that would be boring, Commander."

Ash shrugged. She still wore her new rank awkwardly, like she didn't quite know what to do with it. She was an NCO at heart.

She wouldn't go far if there wasn't a war. To rise as an officer you had to play politics, had to be good with people, had to know which buttons to press, which toes to tread on, who to smile at. Shepard had risen far because people _liked _her or pitied her or were afraid of her. Ashley was honest.

But she was a good soldier, an excellent one. One that would come out of this war as famous as her grandfather but for different reasons and her uniform heavy with medals.

"You ready?" She asked.

"Always am," Ash replied and there was the weary survivor of Eden Prime and Virmire in her eyes.

"Hang on," Cortez suddenly interrupted, "This might be a bit of a rough ride."

Shepard braced, staring at the feeds. Below, the fields of crops, black now and flat. The town, square little buildings that distinguished it from a newborn, prefab colony, barricaded all around. And the horde, pressing forward.

Trying to destroy her home _again. _Anger tasted metallic on her tongue.

The shuttle rolled to the side, and if she hadn't been braced she would have fallen. On the screens a bright flash of a kinetic round tore through the sky on their left.

"We've got a Harvester, ma'am." He said it very calmly.

"Permission to pop the door, Commander?" Williams said, a light in her eyes.

Shepard shook her head. There was a time for that, but that wasn't now. She didn't like to think about what would happen if the Harvester got a shot into such an enclosed space. "Can you handle it, Lieutenant?"

"The MCM have HMGs set up in a perimeter," The pilot replied, even as he jerked the shuttle hard to the right, and behind them came the shadow of their pursuer, "I can get us there."

Shepard nodded. The ground under her feet seemed to shift, spin out as the shuttle curved through the air. And the Harvester kept coming, its wings cutting at the air, howling with the fury of its masters. The shuttle shuddered as one of the shots clipped its kinetic barrier field, sparking the air blue.

A crease formed itself in between Steve Cortez's eyes.

"Barriers at ninety-one percent, ma'am." He said, voice clipped.

The Kodiak skimmed across the tangled, burnt crops, stirring the plants fitfully, its thrusters burning holes into the green fields. The harvester dove at them, lining up its next shot. Cortez looked like he was _enjoying _himself. The shot crashed through the air towards them and then the Kodiak swerved, toppling a few Marines into their comrades, and the harvester's cannon fire burst into the ground, tossing soil high into the air.

The pilot pulled the shuttle up and smiled as the feeds showed them soaring over the barricades the colonists had thrown together against the horde of husks. Showed that horde clawing at the defenders, packed together. The exchange of fire ripped the air to shreds.

"Harvester has broken off, ma'am," He said, even as she watched the HMG turrets-where the hell had the militia gotten those?-send a withering hail of accelerated slugs at the twisted creature. It turned tail and fled.

But there was still the husks, at least company strength, and the MCM appeared to buckle under their weight, the gun turrets in danger of being cut off from friendly positions.

"Bring us around," She ordered, "Vega! Get that door open and someone on the cannons!"

"I'll do it!" Ash said, with a little too much joy in her voice. Cortez curled the shuttle around into a shallow curve, as the Marines 'popped' the doors and Ashley got into one of the cannons and one of the Marine gunners on the other. Wind burst into the interior, crawling under Shepard's visor, numbing her lips. Made you wish for a sealed helmet.

Down below, as the shuttle turned, she could see the barricade, the MCM, the howl of the husks. Then the thud-thud-thud of the cannons drove everything else from her ears. Clumps of husks danced and fell as Ash and the gunner stitched holes in them with the guns. It was about then that the Reaper forces began responding and the Cannibals made that horrible sound. A round impacted above Garrus's head, burning into the metal.

She almost yelled out to make sure everyone had their shield generators going, but Vega, despite his issues with command, was competent and the others were veterans by now. She'd just be insulting them.

She flinched instinctively as a shot pinged off her shields, her VI humming that her shields were at 98 percent. But the MCM were pushing forward, re-establishing their perimeter.

"MCM to Alliance shuttle. Thank you for the assist," Came a voice over the radio. Shepard leant forward to press the comm button, raising her voice over the howl of the wind.

"Alliance to MCM. We're going to pull out and head in, over."

"Understood. MCM out."

"Bring us in to land, Cortez."

Taspan had seen better times. The small but permanent buildings had cracked from the explosives detonated around them, and the debris, along with farming equipment, had been dragged to block of the streets in a haphazard barricade, manned by men and women with guns and armour that looked well-cared for but _old. _Probably equipment phased out by the Alliance and sold on to the colonials.

The colonial town had a small spaceport for small ships and shuttles, and that was where Cortez headed. On the tarmac rested a handful of shuttles, a few small freighters and a crowd.

Shepard took a deep breath as the shuttle settled down and the Marines burst out automatically to form a perimeter so Williams could oversee what they'd brought from the Normandy.

"A single shuttle?" Came a voice. A young voice, bitter like chocolate. Shepard used to sound like that, when she was eighteen and the Alliance was still re-shaping her.

"We're from a frigate," She heard Ash say very dryly, "We can't fit a battalion on board, sorry."

"A frigate. The Alliance sends a frigate-"

Shepard stepped out, into the glaring sunlight that glazed spots over her eyes, pulling her helmet from her head. And there was silence.


	3. Chapter 3

**a/n: sorry about the long pause between updates-end of year exams are coming up and writer's block decided to kick in. Also a warning: this fic will be earning its M rating shortly. **

Pebbles underfoot. Sunlight dancing off water to flick blindness across her eyes. There had been laughter, salt in her mouth.

But here were only eyes and her visor filtering the light to acceptable levels, like adjustable sunglasses. Here was her mate (and she blames the Joining, that she's started to think in asari terms, their languages blurring into one another) touching her back.

She couldn't feel it through her armour, but she could hear the soft scrape of the ballistic weave of the asari's gloves against the plates of her armour.

"Shepard," She said softly and Shepard dropped her memories around her feet. Pulled on Commander Shepard like a comfortable shirt, because the girl who'd swam with her brother and run shrieking as he splashed her wasn't this woman, in her heavy armour and biotics rattling her teeth.

She took a breath.

The colonists had crowded around the shuttle, resisted by the thing ring of the tiny detachment of Marines and her 'specialists'_. _Ashley was oppositea young woman in bulky armour that was two years out of date, a hole burnt in the side. The Spectre had her arms crossed, the symbol bright on her shoulder. The woman (she couldn't have been more the twenty-two) had her chin raised, her face a mask of defiance.

Shepard could feel a headache coming on. For all her excellence at shooting things with a large variety of things, and her own unique style of leadership, Ashley wasn't too good with civilians. And this civilian looked like she was trying her very hardest to have a problem with them.

"XO Williams," She said firmly, "What's going on?"

"Ma'am," Ash stepped back, clearly more than happy to hand over the diplomacy to Shepard. Even if Shepard's idea of diplomacy was punching admirals.

She didn't let the girl speak, "Staff Commander Cameron Shepard, commanding officer of the SSV Normandy and Spectre. This is my executive officer Lieutenant Commander Ashley Williams, Spectre. Who is in command here?"

"You brought less than a platoon," The girl growled, "There's an army out there."

Shepard allowed herself to smile, tugging her helmet off, "Miss, we're worth more than an army. Now, who's in charge here?" She let her own confidence drag through her, comforting and energetic. She was sick of feeling uncertain, of wondering if they could truly win. If she could win, or if she was destined to fail, like all those before her.

"Major Raiford is commanding the militia," The young woman said flatly, "Mayor Salsbury is co-ordinating everything else." Few people looked at her like that. Without fear or awe. Shepard wasn't sure whether to feel disconcerted about that or unsettled that she _was _disconcerted that someone who wasn't a centuries old asari matriarch or krogan could look at her like that. The colonist had green eyes and everything in them was swallowed by fear-anger.

"I'll need to speak with them."

The woman stepped back and jerked her chin at two men pushing through the crowd that tittered with noise whenever Shepard's eyes fell on the shifting, whispering mass of humanity. The major straightened to attention, snapped off a salute that she returned, the man's face too hard for the smile on his face. He wasn't Alliance. The mayor was softer, his hands carrying only the marks of a pen pusher as he grasped her armoured hand.

"Thank you for coming, Commander. I can't tell you how happy we are that you're here."

"Just doing my job, sir." She said calmly, restrained. All these eyes, pressing at her. The air was too familiar. Don't ask me to save this place, I never could before.

Liara was still close to her, the Mayor's eyes slid questioningly to her. The asari kept her face blank. It was blank far too often these days.

To business. Lock down that hint of fear climbing up her ribs, digging into her stomach, "Have you been in contact with the colonial government?"

Raiford shook his head, "They dropped out of contact shortly after the attack, Commander. We haven't heard from them since. We're operating under previously decided protocols for the evacuation and defence of the planet." Logical to surmise that the Reapers had struck the colonial parliament to behead Mindoir's leadership. She didn't let the thought reach her face. She didn't let it in too deep. Why leave Taspan then?

Her jaw tightened. They were herding them, rounding them up with the promise of safety. Like animals, cattle.

"How large is your force?" She rattled off familiar questions. Her heart wasn't in it. She listened to the rounded vowels of the Mayor's voice and remembered another man who'd spoken like that.

By the end she knew that there was a company of militia in the town with HMG support and a few out-dated armoured vehicles. More firepower than most militias had, who were constrained by laws meant to keep the SAMC as top dogs when it came to equipment. It was probably against Alliance law. It would also make her job a helluva lot easier.

"The _Normandy _is a stealth reconnaissance vessel," She explained, her hands locked behind her back, her shoulders square, her eyes hidden behind her visor, "We are unable to shift large amounts of people off-world." Some maybe, a handful, since the _Normandy _was a reasonably sized frigate and had only a skeleton crew, but there had to be hundreds if not thousands in Taspan.

"We've got some ships," The Major said, perhaps realising he should've been happier if a cruiser or even a carrier had been the one to pass by, "We can shift the majority of Taspan off-world but we'll never fit everyone on Mindoir onboard and they're shooting down anyone who tries to leave the planet."

"You can't save everyone, Major." Shepard replied softly. Normal procedure would be that the children, others that couldn't defend themselves, would be loaded first. They would escape and those with a chance of survival would remain.

But could they afford that? Anyone who could fight, anyone who could help ensure the survival of the species was needed. _So what, _a voice that tasted blue like Alliance blue and the skies above her parents' home, _I leave the weak to die because they're not __**useful? **_She could imagine exactly what would happen; she'd seen it before.

_If anyone is left standing after this __**I will have won. **_She took a staggered breath, _Never forget what happened at Bahak._

"Where's the line?" She whispered to herself and opened her eyes without realising she'd closed them.

The Major blinked at her, "Excuse me, Commander?"

She shook her head, "Nevermind." If _anyone…_

The radio hummed. "Enemy incursion at Outpost Charlie, I repeat, enemy incursion at Outpost Charlie, over."

"Unfortunate," The Major sighed, with the weary air of a man who'd seen far too many things go wrong to be surprised anymore. She took back her assessment of him not being Alliance-at one point he had. Possibly a Shanxi vet. He did eye Garrus a little too often, "Stragglers from the outlying farms were still coming up that road-we'd managed to keep it open until now."

"There was still one group due in," The major said mournfully. In the background a MCM comms specialist was murmuring into the radio.

"Do you know where they were at last contact?" Shepard asked. Suddenly: purpose. Combat was simple: act and react. There was nothing else. It wasn;t an even playing field and it thrilled her-when she was fighting she didn't need to think about politics or the aftershocks of her decisions. Just _how do I get to my objective and how do I kill the target in front of me? _An enemy was always a target. Never a person or what used to be a person.

"They were at Hendrickson's Well-satellite village," The Major quickly added. She didn't recall the name, "But they'd probably made some ground since then, even with some livestock and children." Left unspoken was: they're most likely dead.

"I'll clear the road," She said simply, "Mark their last known position on my map-if I can I'll bring them home."

"Thank you Commander."

She shrugged, said, "It's my job." Such things are easy to say now. And then she was turning, shouting for her team to get organised.


End file.
